


For Things Lost

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-05-05
Updated: 1999-05-05
Packaged: 2018-11-10 23:45:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11137017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	For Things Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

For Things Lost

Standard Disclaimer   
By the way, please don't kill me. This is my  
first real effort. Email responses would be  
absolutely lovely.   
  
  


## For Things Lost

  
by Jaelyn Wanderer  
  
  
Ray Vecchio, or, as his birth certificate had  
originally proclaimed him, Stanley Kowaski,  
drummed his fingers on his desk impatiently. As  
his ex-wife Stella had often informed him,  
patience wasn't one of his virtues. Then again,  
Stella seemed to have had a list of all the  
virtues he lacked, and he'd long ago stopped  
listening when she would recite them. His brain  
usually tuned out about around the time she got  
to slob, several items before impatience, so he  
was still oblivious to this deficiency in himself.  
  
He stood abruptly, sparing a second to run his  
fingers through his short spiky hair before  
wending his way through the police station. His  
hazel eyes narrowed at the sight of his prey  
calmly doing her nails at the computer desk.   
  
Ray smoothly half-sat on the desk, a carefully  
friendly smile pasted on his lips.  
  
"Frannie?"   
  
"Yeah, Ray?" The shade of red was perfect, and  
she turned her attention to a second coat.   
  
"Where the hell is my information on Alford!"  
Ray demanded, leaning forward sharply, face  
inches from hers. Frannie jumped and looked up  
venomously.  
  
"God, Ray! Will you just cool it?" She stood  
and hurried back to her own desk, the polish  
remover and cotton balls she hadn't thought  
she'd need in her purse there.   
  
Ray was right on her heels. "Well, you know I  
would except that a murder case sort of rides on  
finding out if this scum ball is in town."  
  
"Look, Ray. I can't make the computer go any  
faster or make a fax magically appear! Toccoa  
said they would send the info when they got it.  
So just stop breathing down my neck!"  
  
By this time Frannie had applied the cotton ball  
to her finger and was repairing the damage.  
Grumbling under his breath about idiot fax  
machines and nail polish wearing women named  
Frannie, Ray stalked off.   
  
Benton Fraser of the R.C.M.P entered the station  
just in time to see Ray start shuffling papers  
on his desk with what seemed to be excessive  
violence and carelessness.  
  
Fraser paused. "Francesca, do you know what is  
wrong with Ray?"  
  
"Oh, dropped on his head as a child, I think."  
Frannie said loudly as she stood.  
  
"Ha ha." Ray's voice snapped back.  
  
"So, Frase," she continued without missing a  
beat, "Ma was just saying the other day about  
how much she missed you coming over. How about  
you and I..."  
  
"No no no Frannie, you see, while some people  
around here are doing their nails and harassing  
people, some of us are trying to do our jobs.  
Understand?" Ray closed the distance between his  
desk and the two quickly. "Go away," he added to  
the annoyed Vecchio, just to make things  
perfectly clear.  
  
"Fine. Fine. I can tell when you are stuck in a  
snit and..."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, leave." Ray ignored the glare she  
gave him as well as the smile she made sure to  
give Fraser before she walked away.  
  
"You know, Ray. Francesca does have a point. You  
seem to be in a particularly bad mood," Fraser  
commented. Ray took him by the elbow and quickly  
led him out of the major bustle of the squad room.  
  
"You don' understand. If Prudence finds out that  
Alford might be involved in this, she is gonna,  
well, she will be all..." he shook his head as  
words momentarily failed him. "That is why I  
need your help."  
  
"Perhaps if you tell me who this Alford is and  
who this Prudence is, I might be able to  
contribute more," Fraser said, carefully  
pointing out the obvious.  
  
Ray stepped in front of the coffee machine and  
dug in his jeans for some change.   
  
"Alright there. You see, a few years back I was  
visiting Toccoa, Georgia. I got these cousins  
down there. It's a real hell hole, you wouldn't  
believe it." He punched the button for coffee  
and bent to retrieve it. "Thing is, the town's  
not so big. But it's like this great stop off  
place for drugs coming in from Florida. Gets  
pretty hairy."  
  
"I see," Fraser commented.  
  
"Well, when I was there, here was this bunch of  
murders. Real gruesome ones involving some  
freaky mutilations. Hearts taken out, brains  
fried. Nasty. The only suspect Sabe and I.."  
  
"Sabe?"  
  
"Sable. My cousin. She's a cop down there. We  
came up with Lloyd Alford as the guy to grab.  
When we got a warrant for the house we had tons  
of fingerprints and stuff proving the victims  
had been there, but he had already skipped town.  
So we never got him."  
  
Blue eyes widened in understanding. "The Brady  
case."  
  
"Right. Who ever killed Gina Brady has the same  
MO as Alford. Right down to the missing hearts  
and electrical burns on her temples."  
  
Ray tossed the coffee cup into the trash after  
only a few sips, eyes darting around in a manner  
Fraser was tempted to call paranoid.  
  
"Well, Ray, I can see where this might be  
upsetting. If it truly is Alford, and he has  
indeed returned to his heinous..."  
  
Ray's eyes flickered. "Why do you do that to me?"  
  
Fraser was taken aback. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Do that. You always do that. The...ahh, never  
mind." Fraser's expression was blank, and Ray  
sighed in exasperation before elaborating.  
"Heinous?"  
  
"Ahh. Right. It means hideous or awful."  
  
"'kay."  
  
Fraser found himself following Ray back into the  
squad room. "I can see why you would be upset,"  
he continued, "but your reaction seems a bit  
extreme. Are you worried Alford is going to  
target you next?"  
  
Ray shook his head. "Alford is wacko, a sleeze  
who deserves life. But he is smarter than to  
mess with a cop. No. What scares me is..."  
"Ray!" the voice was sharp, filled with  
reproach as well as anger, and female.  
  
Ray winced. "Prudence," he finished and smiled  
sickly at the woman who had fixed her gaze on him.  
  
"Prudence?" Fraser blinked, taking in the  
uniformed police officer with her light brown  
hair and pale skin.   
  
"Sable's old roommate, now a cop. And a major  
pain in the..."  
  
"Love you too, Ray," the woman said sweetly,  
still several feet away. In his years of  
enforcing the law Fraser had gained a knack of  
reading people. He had found that if one looked  
deep enough, and had the sense to realize what  
he was seeing, someone could tell a person's  
whole world view from his or her eyes. Of  
course, the details about appearance and manner  
helped, but...  
  
The woman before him was short, neat, and held a  
humor about her. There was a calmness in her  
expression, even though she was clearly not  
pleased, and a look in her eyes as if she felt  
everything in the world needed to be taken with  
a measure of amusement, wry or otherwise.  
  
She froze for a moment at the sight of Fraser,  
his interrogative blue eyes sheathed in  
politeness, meeting her hazel ones directly. The  
curve of a smile on her lips didn't fade, but  
she did inexplicably blush.  
  
Then she shook the slight mezmoration off and  
returned to Ray.  
  
"You know about Gina Brady," she accused.  
  
"Yeah. Uh, look Prudence, we got this thing  
under control here and I'll let you know, okay?"  
  
"No deal, Vecchio," she stressed the false last  
name. "I am in this. Nothing is changing that  
now."  
  
Ray groaned and protested. "Pru, you are a beat  
cop! A rookie that doesn't know the first thing  
about..."  
  
Prudence merely smiled and extended a hand to  
the mildly intrigued Benton Fraser. "Prudence  
Miloy, at your service."  
  
"Benton Fraser of the R.C.M.P at yours, Ma'am."  
  
Her smile turned into a grin.  
  
"Is nobody listening to me?"  
  
"Not really Ray." The grin turned wicked.  
Ray groaned.  
  
*****  
  
  
"Is your dog always so friendly?" Prudence  
managed, grinning widely at the half-wolf which  
was doing his best to catch her scent and  
express his general approval by licking her ears.   
  
"He is a wolf actually and you may have to  
forgive him Miss. Miloy, Diefenbaker sometimes  
has the most deplorable manners. He is deaf so  
he will have to be able to see your lips of  
course but if you tell him to get off of you he  
should obey," Fraser said matter-of-factly from  
his seat. He glanced over to Ray. The sun  
glasses hid his eyes, but Fraser could tell by  
the set of his jaw and the way he was gripping  
the wheel he was not pleased.  
  
"Oh no," Prudence said quickly, "I used to have  
a couple dogs and I loved them." She gently  
reached around to scratch behind Diefenbaker's  
ears, her expression warm. Then she did a double  
take. "He reads lips?"  
  
"Yeah, Pru, the wolf reads lips," Ray  
interrupted curtly, "Now look. When we get to  
Gina Brady's you just stay in the car, alright?  
Fraser and I will take care of looking around."  
  
"Because you have those eagle eyes that will  
catch what my twenty-twenty vision might miss,  
Ray?" The sarcasm was said lightly, her eyes  
narrowed.  
  
"Because I know what I am doing, that's why.  
That last thing we need is you going in there  
poking your nose in all the wrong things and  
messing everything up."  
  
"Ray," her tone was very calm and simple. "I  
have graduated the Academy. In fact, I have been  
a cop for two years now. I do know a little  
about the job."  
  
"She does have a point you know," Fraser said  
and ignored the look Ray shot him. "Well, I mean  
she is a police officer. She has some insight  
into the case. I think Miss. Miloy could be a  
help."  
  
"Prudence," she corrected.  
  
Fraser half-turned to look at her. "Benton."  
  
Prudence smiled.  
  
"Great. That is just great. Fine. You just stay  
out of the way though and let us handle things."  
As Ray pulled the car into the parking spot,  
Prudence leaned forward from the back seat.  
  
"As you wish, oh fearless leader." She murmured,  
amused.  
Fraser was a bit upset to notice that the  
glares Ray was giving him had doubled in  
intensity.  
  
Gina Brady had lived alone in a small apartment  
on the not-so-good but not-out-right-horrible  
section in town. In fact, the neighborhood had  
been rapidly become a favorite place for college  
students out on their own to find apartments.  
The building itself was five floors high, and  
fairly well maintained. There was a sparse lawn  
with only a little trash on it, and the inner  
walls of the lobby had been painted within the  
last ten years.   
  
"Where did she live?" Prudence asked trailing  
behind the other two.   
  
"Second floor," Ray said, reading the  
'out-of-order' sign on the elevator. He opened  
the door to the stairwell and started up.   
  
Fraser caught the door and looked at Prudence,  
nodding toward the stairs. "After you."   
  
Again, her smile widened, this time slightly  
startled. "And they say chivalry is dead."   
  
The mountie looked at Diefenbaker as he  
followed. "Watch out for her," he said softly.  
The wolf tilted his head curiously and made a  
slight interrogative growl. "Well yes, I know.  
But just in case. Now come on."  
  
He continued up the stairs, then. Ray was busily  
picking the lock on the door of apartment  
thirteen and Prudence was watching curiously.  
The door swung open and Ray cautiously entered,  
eyes scanning.   
  
"Not a bad place," he said, walking in. Fraser  
had to agree. From what he could tell, it was  
clean, if not spacious. The kitchen was open to  
the living room and the bedroom, the master one  
by the look of things, was directly off to the  
right. A short hallway led to what could be  
assumed to be a guest bedroom and a bathroom.  
Fraser bent down by the couch, as if inspecting  
it for anything suspicious. Ray instantly went  
to the antique writing desk in the corner.   
  
"Nothing much here but letters and bills," he  
remarked over his shoulder. Silently, Prudence  
walked through the open door of the master  
bedroom, followed by the watchful wolf. "A few  
from mom, bills from a furniture store..."  
  
"For the couch?" Fraser rose to his feet  
smoothly. "It does appear to be very new. If you  
will notice Ray, so does the microwave and the  
television."  
  
"Yeah...and she is a college student. Third  
year. Gotta wonder where she got the money for  
it all." Ray put the bills down and walked the  
perimeter of the room, curiously.  
  
"There is no need to jump to conclusions, Ray.  
Her parents might have..."  
  
"No, no. They aren't that rich, you see. I  
already talked to them a little bit, and she was  
going to school all on scholarships. They were  
scraping by to get her though. So she had to get  
the money from elsewhere."  
  
Fraser regarded the living room for a long  
moment, trying to glean the personality of this  
dead girl from her home. The walls were painted  
a neutral off white. Standard apartment fare,  
but they were covered with pictures of beautiful  
places and reproductions of art. The couch was a  
tasteful cream and hunter green, the television  
placed on a oak entertainment center. Gina  
appeared to have loved candles. There were  
several of them all around the room, and they  
were obviously well used. The room was very  
clean, showing an appreciation for the quality  
of things. And, she had apparently liked to  
cook. Fruit scented the air from inside woven  
baskets and there was a brand new food processor  
on the counter.   
  
"Hmmmm."  
  
"So," Ray began opening drawers in the desk,  
still searching. "Where does a college girl get  
this kind of money? Drugs or something?"  
  
"Possibly." Fraser didn't believe so, though.  
Drug users did not usually show such care for  
things. He started to head to the second  
bedroom, but turned, able to see Prudence  
through the master bedroom door.   
  
It was the way she was standing perfectly still  
that had caught Fraser's attention. She stood by  
a dresser, its surface covered with makeup and  
jewelry that just never had gotten put away. And  
for once her face was completely sober. The  
bright excitement which had been a part of her  
demeanor since Fraser had first met her was  
missing. His attention focused as he watched her  
gingerly, almost reverently, pick up a mask from  
the dresser. It was a porcelain representation  
of a woman's face, with a small rose etched on  
the cheek. "Then again," he continued, not  
moving his gaze as he spoke, "from what you have  
said about Alford drugs don't seem a part of his  
normal mode of operation."  
  
Ray walked past Fraser into the bedroom and  
stopped. "Pru, put that down," he said quietly.  
  
"It is her face," one finger trailed the edge of  
it. "Gina's I mean. At Renaissance Festivals you  
pay a huge amount but you can get a mask of your  
face..."  
  
"I know." He covered her hand with his own and  
pushed it down to the dresser. "Put it down."   
  
Prudence never moved her eyes until the mask was  
set back down and the empty sockets in the  
inanimate porcelain revealed only painted wood  
again. Then she took a breath and pulled her  
hand from Ray's, straightening. "The desk  
calendar in here," she said, voice strained and  
her lips twitched in an attempt at a smile to  
lighten things. "wouldn't you know it? This  
month is missing on it."  
  
Ray and Fraser walked over to the desk, Ray  
sparing a backward glance for Prudence. She  
rolled her eyes at his concern and smirked. He  
shook his head and turned his attention back to  
the matter at hand.  
  
"Looks like someone tore it off," Ray commented.  
  
"Quickly too." Fraser briefly examined it.   
  
"It is too early to be changing the month on  
your calendar, and it looks like she was pretty  
thorough about writing out her appointments. You  
thinking what I am thinking, Fraser?"  
  
"That Gina must have written down where she was  
going the night she was murdered and that  
information somehow incriminated the murderer  
who then broke in here and stole the evidence?"  
  
Ray gestured widely. "Boom! There you go. Come  
on, Gina had a best friend named Tracy Watkins  
who might know who she was supposed to meet. The  
two were real close."  
  
Fraser nodded and the two began to stride out  
of the room, moving quickly on the trail. They  
had made it almost the whole way to the  
apartment door without realizing that Prudence  
hadn't followed.   
  
She had started to. In fact, Diefenbaker, a bit  
edgy but feeling relieved that they were moving  
again, had started out the door with her, right  
after the men. But for some reason, she paused  
and turned to the closet door. Head tilted and  
eyes narrowed as if she was trying to catch an  
elusive melody, she took a step toward it, and  
then another quicker this time. Chewing her lip  
thoughtfully she stood in front of it and  
reached her hand to the knob. Diefenbaker's ears  
twitched and he trotted back to the room to try  
and hurry her along; the others were leaving. As  
the knob on the closet door turned, he  
stiffened, growling a low warning in his throat.   
  
The door flew open, kicked from the inside.  
Prudence cried out, the impact slamming her  
against the wall. Diefenbaker barked and lunged  
for the intruder, even as the man threw himself  
through the window.   
  
"Prudence!"   
She groaned and pointed. "There!"  
  
Fraser brushed by her, launching himself out the  
window without a moment's hesitation. Ray darted  
back out the door to try and head the chase off.  
  
Fraser landed, legs flexing to take the impact,  
and ran after the suspect. The ally way was  
narrow and the stench of rotting things splashed  
up as the tall blonde man heedlessly ran through  
a puddle. Diefenbaker was almost on him, and as  
he looked back over his shoulder, Fraser could  
see the fear in his eyes.   
  
More importantly, he could see the edge of  
tattered paper peeking from the pocket of the  
man's jeans.  
  
Fraser ran faster. A frantic movement sent a  
teetering garbage can into the path of the  
chase, a desperate attempt. Diefenbaker was  
caught too close to it to do anything but leap,  
which he did easily, and Fraser simply swerved.  
But the second gained was used to rush through a  
door into the building on the right. Without  
hesitation, Fraser followed after.   
  
The four men convening in secret were not  
exactly pleased by their guests. The suspect  
raced past them into the dark interior of the  
building too quickly for them to react or do  
more than begin to draw their weapons. But, then  
there was Fraser, unfortunately, on the  
receiving end of those weapons.  
  
"It is a set up!" A dark haired man with a bad  
mustache   
screamed, firing his gun at Fraser with reckless  
enthusiasm.   
  
The Mountie dove for the dubious cover of what  
used to be the bar before the club went out of  
business. Bullets whined and thudded into the  
wood.   
  
"Freeze! Chicago PD!" Ray yelled from the  
doorway gun poised. He didn't even have the time  
to mouth the obscenity he thought before he  
threw himself to the side to avoid the bullets.  
  
"Bigsby! Let's go! Come on!"   
  
"Get to the car!"  
  
The sound of retreating footsteps met Fraser's  
ears, and he gathered himself to race after  
them. Through the darkness of the building he  
pursued them, Ray right behind him. They cleared  
the front door just in time to see an  
anonymously black car speed away. Unaimed  
bullets fired awkwardly out the rear window.   
Ray sidestepped toward the building for a bit of  
cover, took aim, but growled and lowered the gun.  
  
"I don't suppose the wolf followed the guy?" he  
asked sharply.  
  
A whine from behind them was the answer.   
  
"Aw, great." He re-holstered his gun, frustrated.  
  
"Look at it this way, Ray. We know that  
something on that calendar was worth going back  
for. This Tracy you were speaking of, did  
she...?"  
  
"Are you guys alright?" Prudence charged up to  
them from the street, panting slightly, her gun  
drawn.   
  
Ray's eyes flickered as he turned to her. She  
raised her chin in an instinctive defensive  
move, tensing in expectation.   
  
"Yeah, fine. You?" he asked.  
  
"Fine." She blinked, startled.  
  
He nodded curtly. "Yeah, okay then. You just be  
more careful when you open closets, okay?" he  
pointed at her. "You never know what might be  
there."  
  
She smiled slowly, relaxing. "And if I don't,  
next time I'll find you there with a squirt gun,  
right?"  
  
Ray laughed briefly, taking a few steps down the  
street towards where the car had disappeared.  
"Me hanging out in closets? Naw. You must be  
joking." He hesitated, unsure of what sounded  
wrong with that statement, but pretty sure that  
something about it hadn't sounded right.   
  
"You don't know how glad I am to hear you say  
that, Ray." Prudence said dryly. He frowned.   
  
"Ray?" Fraser asked, "You were speaking of Tracy  
Watkins?"  
  
"Ahh, right. Come on," he jerked his head in the  
direction of his car. "We can still probably get  
a hold of her if we hurry."  
  
Prudence was doing her best not to laugh.   
  
*****  
  
  
Tracy Watkins was a striking woman. Perhaps not  
pretty, but there was an aura about her. Her  
long dark hair waved to the middle of her back,  
and her brown eyes were thickly lashed. Her nose  
was a bit too large, and her mouth a bit too  
thin, but in her manner there was a captivating  
mixture of signals. A wall of capability and  
harshness tightened her hands while shimmering  
in the grief on her face was the promise of  
vulnerability.   
  
"Miss. Watkins, you were friends with the  
deceased, Gina Brady, were you not?" Fraser  
asked, hat in his hands. Miss Watkins had been  
found leaving her last class of the day and they  
had asked if she would answer a few questions  
for them. The empty classroom was dead, but the  
sounds of campus through the open window  
provided a active backdrop.  
  
Tracy nodded, a bare trace of movement. "Yes,  
Gina and I were friends."   
  
"Do you know if she was supposed to meet anyone  
on the night she died?" Ray sat on a desk top,  
feet resting on the seat.  
  
"What do you mean? You mean like a boyfriend?"  
She sounded confused.  
  
"Possibly." Fraser encouraged.  
  
"She didn't have a boyfriend. Not for a few  
months or so anyway." Tracy thought a moment.  
"She was going to come over to my apartment  
later on and we were going to watch some  
movies." A faint smile twisted her lips and she  
glanced down. "Pixie sticks and Ben & Jerry's.   
She had to meet with Professor Anderson first,  
though."  
  
"Professor Anderson? And he would teach what,  
exactly?" Ray asked.  
  
"He teaches the Psych courses, when he teaches  
at all." She continued without having to be  
coaxed. "Gina and I, and a few others at the  
school, did some part time work for the  
department. You know sort of as test subjects  
for the grad students or the Professors working  
on papers."  
  
"Like, uh, guinea pigs or something?" Ray stared  
at her.   
  
Tracy shook her head. "No, it isn't like that at  
all. They don't dare do anything harmful, it is  
all safe and it is all legal. They pay great and  
you had to do hardly anything. I mean, you  
weren't assured of a job all the time. You might  
get called on once in a month, or a bit more if  
you were lucky and had a profile or something  
they could really grab. That was why I was a bit  
surprised when Dr. Anderson said he needed Gina  
for another experiment that night. She had just  
finished one up with them last week."  
  
"I see. Do you know where Miss. Brady and Dr.  
Anderson were supposed to meet?" Fraser's  
expression was still neutral, but a certain  
glimmer showed his interest.   
  
"Usually the requests go out through student  
employment and you have to pick up your card  
from them. Then you just go to the lab you were  
assigned to," she spoke slowly, "But, Dr.  
Anderson sent one of his assistants to stop Gina  
just as she was leaving campus. I guess he was  
afraid that she would be gone before she could  
get the request in the mail. Gina didn't mention  
where they were supposed to meet. But I would  
assume the lab."  
  
  
"Did Gina happen to tell you who this assistant  
was? Or what he looked like?" Ray's foot tapped  
a staccato beat on the seat of the desk and he  
leaned forward just a little bit.  
  
"She said his name was Carl. But she didn't need  
to tell me what he looked like. I was walking  
with her when he came and pulled her aside to  
talk to her. I don't know who he was, if that is  
what you are asking. I haven't seen him on  
campus before. He was taller than six feet,  
maybe two or three inches above it. Blonde hair,  
didn't really notice eye color..."  
  
"Sounds like twinkle toes from the apartment."  
Ray glanced at Fraser.   
  
"Indeed it does." He stood and placed his hat  
back on his head. "Thank you for your time, Miss  
Watkins."  
  
She nodded, hesitating as the three officers  
stood and moved to the door. Before she could  
think about it, the words tumbled from her lips.  
"Don't...let him get away, okay?" her voice was  
abrupt. She swallowed, the edge of anger openly   
mingled with grief on her face. "Whoever did  
this...don't let him get away and...make sure he  
pays for it."   
  
"We will. I promise."  
  
The voice was calm and even. But from the  
intensity buried in it, and the darkness that  
had somehow attached itself to the words, Fraser  
would have thought Ray was the one answering  
that call for vengeance. But it was Prudence's  
eyes that locked with the younger woman in a  
strange sort of understanding and exchange. And  
it was to her that Tracy nodded acknowledgement.  
  
*****  
  
  
"I do not like this." Ray asserted.   
  
"It makes perfect sense, Ray. Lloyd Alford  
arrives in   
Chicago under the false name of Dr. Peter  
Anderson and takes up a job with the college.  
With this job he is able to find victims that  
match his criteria, whatever that criteria may  
be, and contact them with relative anonyminity.  
I don't believe that he meant for anyone to be  
around when Gina Brady was contacted. Now,  
granted there are a few questions that remain  
unanswered, like why Alford is killing these  
people as well as the..."  
  
"Not that Fraser," Ray interrupted sharply. "I  
meant Prudence."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Ray released his rather tight grip on the  
steering wheel of his car and sighed into the  
thoughtful silence.  
  
"I don't mean to be rude, but you seem to have  
quite a problem with Prudence. I don't quite  
understand why. Granted she is not a detective  
and is relatively inexperienced, but she hasn't  
gotten in the way of the investigation in any  
way shape or form. In fact, if you recall, she  
was the one who noticed the calendar page was  
missing."  
  
"I know that. I know that." Ray stared out to  
Dr. Anderson's dark house. The stake-out had  
been going on for a six hours now, ever since  
they had talked to Anderson's secretary and  
discovered that Anderson had planned to be out  
of town until later on that evening. There was  
another car stationed several hundred feet down  
the road, and Ray was starting to get very  
impatient. "Look, Pru is a good kid. And," he  
shrugged to concede the point, "I think she's a  
good cop too."  
  
"Then I don't understand."   
  
Ray glanced at Fraser, uncomfortable. "It is  
just that, in Toccoa, when things went down with  
Alford the first time..."  
  
"Hey, I got the food. Hope you approve." The  
door to the car opened and Prudence slipped  
inside, handing several bags over the back seat.   
  
"Subs?"   
  
She grinned, her teeth a flash of white in the  
darkness. "And chocolate covered cream filled  
donuts, just in case."  
  
Diefenbaker whined and nosed at the bag Prudence  
held.   
  
"Oh dear," Fraser muttered.  
  
"Now, Dief, chocolate is not good for canines,"  
Prudence chided. The wolf gave her a skeptical  
look. "Yes, I know that seems a bit impossible  
that chocolate could be bad, but..."  
  
"Fraser, she is talking to the wolf."   
  
"I noticed that."  
  
"...it would be like pouring salt into an  
engine, or allowing a painting to be ruined by  
mold or something. You are entirely too  
beautiful to allow sweets to ruin." Prudence  
either didn't hear the men or ignored them.  
Diefenbaker whined, and exhaled breath in a  
sigh. Prudence smiled. "So..I got you these  
instead. Hope you like."   
  
Fraser didn't see what Prudence gave the wolf,  
but the sound of contented chomping was rather  
loud.  
  
Fraser unwrapped his meal as Prudence leaned  
forward.   
"Nothing interesting happen while I was gone, I  
take it?"  
  
"Not a thing. Quiet as a mouse. Nothing," Ray  
said with his mouth full.  
  
"I don't like this."   
  
"What's not to like? Anderson is Alford and he's  
been grabbing students to kill. Simple as that."  
Ray retorted.  
  
"It is too easy. I will bet you a million  
dollars that Alford has already skipped town. He  
is too smart to come back to the house."  
  
"Why shouldn't he return?" Fraser asked. "There  
is no reason to believe that he knows we have  
connected Anderson to the murders. His man got  
away with the calendar page."  
  
Prudence couldn't find any words to express what  
she was thinking. "Canada is so close," she  
muttered, "we should have alerted the boarder  
guards or something. Then they could have  
grabbed him."   
  
"Prudence, he did not run to Canada," Ray  
asserted, "He isn't that crazy. Besides, the  
Canadians wouldn't have just picked up a guy on  
a description and the little evidence we got."  
  
  
"Actually, Ray, I would imagine..."   
  
"What do you mean little evidence?" Prudence  
spoke over Fraser, "Gina Brady is dead. Not  
coming back, okay? And Tracy said Anderson was  
the one who saw her last. We have plenty of  
evidence."  
  
"You cannot just pick someone up like that." Ray  
stated, getting a bit angry.  
  
"Of course you can!"  
  
"You can't!"  
  
"Look, Stanley, you can too! If I want to go and  
arrest someone I can do that, that is what a  
badge means! I can slip in and just pick..." her  
voice trailed off, and the hand which had been  
absently resting on Diefenbaker's side froze.  
  
Ray was already speaking. "No, you can't! You  
never got this, Dense, even back in Toccoa. You  
can't just rush in, you get people killed! And  
the DA just won't go when you have no evidence,  
got it?"  
  
Fraser saw Prudence stiffen as if she had been  
slapped, breath caught sharply in her throat.  
"Theresa has nothing to do with this," she said,  
sudden warning and hardness in her voice.   
  
"Doesn't she?" he snapped back then shut his  
eyes briefly, wincing. "I mean, I didn't mean  
that. I just mean that if you or anyone else..."   
  
"No." She smiled tightly, shaking her head. "I  
am not dense, despite that ugly nickname. And if  
you had half a brain you would stop treating me  
like a child or some sort of bomb waiting to  
explode. I have spent years, Kowalski, learning  
to be a cop and what to do and when to do it and  
to learn how to deal with that bastard still on  
the loose. I do not rush into situations  
anymore, I've grown up. Unlike you. And unlike  
you, I can see things that are right in front of  
me. I know what to look for with Alford. And I  
have the right to look for it! More than you,  
more than anyone. And I won't let you shut me  
out of it."  
  
She ignored the way that Fraser was looking from  
her to Ray and back again. She ignored the way  
Ray was trying to find something to say. There  
was nothing to say, and she didn't want to hear  
it anyway. She threw open the door to the car  
and left, slamming it shut.  
  
The black trench coat, which Ray had rolled his  
eyes at conspired with the shadows to take her  
from sight quickly.  
  
Ray let his head fall back against the head  
rest. "Damn."  
  
  
"Who was Theresa?" Fraser asked quietly.  
  
"Her younger sister." Ray rubbed his temple.  
"And Alford's   
fourth victim."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"She...Prudence thought that it was her fault.  
Sabe and I had been working on the case for a  
while, Prudence sort of hanging along, helping  
out a bit. She and Theresa looked a lot a like,  
they were only a year and a half apart in age.  
She was taken from outside a movie theater where  
she and Prudence were supposed to meet."  
  
  
Fraser was silent. Diefenbaker growled after a  
moment, pacing the back seat. He had meant to  
follow Theresa, to watch as he was told. But she  
had shut the door and trapped him inside.  
  
"Do you think she will be alright?" Ray asked,  
then backtracked. "Uhh, walking home I mean."  
"I am sure she will be fine." Fraser said,  
"Walking home that is. It is a good  
neighborhood, and there was a pay phone just  
down the road for a taxi," he paused, noting  
that the words had no reassuring effect and  
letting them rest in the air for a minute  
anyway, "Unless, you think that she might not be  
okay emotionally, and that one of us should go  
after her. As a friend." he added.  
  
Ray smiled briefly. "Is that what you think?  
That I meant should one of us should go make  
sure she is okay?"  
  
"I don't know, Ray. Is it?"  
  
"...yeah. It is," he reached out for the handle  
to the car door.  
  
Just as a red car pulled up into Anderson's  
driveway.   
  
*****  
  
  
Ray grabbed the radio, "This is it, get ready."  
he told the others over the line. Without  
further word he and Fraser exited the car,  
Diefenbaker jumping out as they walked to the  
driveway. In the dim light cast by the house's  
porch bulbs, they saw a grey haired man exit  
from the car and walk around to the passenger  
side. He opened the door, and a young woman  
stepped out. Ray's expression grew fierce.   
  
"Freeze! Chicago PD!" he shouted, gun drawn.   
  
Dr. Anderson looked up, startled, and the woman  
he was with yelped and moved closer to him.  
  
"On the ground, now!" Ray strode over to them.  
"Now!"  
  
"Peter!" the girl whimpered.  
  
"It's okay, Lola! Look, I was just tutoring her  
on Freud, I swear it!" Dr. Anderson babbled as  
he got to his knees slowly.  
  
"Now! Hands behind your back!" With swift  
motions Ray cuffed the man. "Freud eh? Like how  
you tutored Gina Brady?"  
  
"I never tutored Miss. Brady!"  
  
"Yeah right!" Ray dragged him to his feet. "And  
like you never sent your assistant Carl to tell  
Gina to meet you on the night she died!"  
  
"My assistant's name is Joe!" the terrified man  
yelped, "I have no idea what you are talking  
about!"  
  
"Shut up. You have the right to remain silent.  
Anything you say can be used..."   
  
Ray's words died as the light finally hit Dr.  
Anderson full in the face.  
  
  
"Against you in a court of law." Fraser  
supplied. He was holding the girl away gently  
but firmly as she cried.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Ray demanded, shaking  
the man a little.  
  
"Dr. Peter Anderson," the man supplied quickly,  
"Look, I was at a convention in Toronto when  
they said Miss. Brady died, I didn't do anything  
I..."  
  
Ray cursed and looked over to Fraser,  
frustrated. With harsh motions he unlocked the  
handcuffs. "It isn't him. He's not Alford."  
  
*****  
  
  
"Well that was just great." Ray muttered,  
striding back to the car. The whole thing had  
taken some time to sort out. The other police  
had left, annoyed and grumbling about the  
useless stakeout and Anderson had retreated  
inside.  
  
"At least he isn't going to press charges  
against us for police harassment." Fraser offered.  
  
"Yeah. Great. Damn it." Ray slid into his seat.  
"We're back to square one."  
  
"Not really. We do have a description of this  
Carl. We know that he worked for Alford and if  
we put out an APB on him."  
  
Ray started the car and pulled away from the  
curb. "We know what Carl looks like, " he  
repeated slowly.  
  
"Right. Miss. Watkins can give us a positive ID.  
We should probably get her to a police sketch  
artist." Fraser added.   
  
"A positive ID. Because she saw him right  
close." He looked at Fraser.  
  
Fraser looked back, blue eyes widening. "That's  
right. And Carl saw her too. And if he knows  
that she can ID him, Alford knows that she can  
ID him."  
  
Ray reached for police radio. "Dispatch, I need  
a telephone number for Tracy Watkins at 345  
Peach Avenue, right away!" He turned the wheel  
fiercely, headed for the apartment even as he  
waited for the phone number.   
"The number is 555-7383."   
  
"Right, thanks."   
  
"You think Alford will try to silence Miss.  
Watkins?" Fraser asked as they sped.  
  
"Yeah. He is a very tight guy." He dialed the  
number on his cell phone quickly. "He wouldn't  
let a loose end hang. She's all we got."   
  
The phone rung and was picked up.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Tracy? This is detective Vecchio, look. You  
need to listen very carefully, okay?"  
  
"Alright. What is going on?"  
  
"You need to stay in the apartment. Lock the  
doors and the windows, and don't come out for  
anybody. You might be in danger. Fraser and I  
will be right over to take you to the police  
station."  
  
"I thought that a couple uniforms were going to  
take me there?" She was confused.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I have been trying to get through to you for a  
while now, but I guess you had the phone turned  
off or Officer Miloy got the number wrong. She  
called and told me to stay in the house until  
two uniformed police came to my door. Then I was  
to check out the badge numbers and go with them  
to the station. I was also supposed to call you  
and tell you that Carl had asked me to meet up  
with Dr. Anderson this evening. Has something  
gone wrong?"  
  
"When did she tell you this?" Ray demanded.  
  
"About twenty minutes ago. I was just walking  
out the door to go meet with Dr. Anderson." She  
waited for Detective Vecchio to say something,  
anything, but he didn't. "Officer Miloy said she  
would take care of things and tell Dr. Anderson  
why I couldn't be there."  
  
Ray stiffened. "Where? Tracy, where were you  
going to meet   
him?"  
  
"Outside the library at school. But, I was  
supposed to be there about ten minutes ago. I  
don't know if Officer Miloy was able to get  
there in time."  
  
Ray hung up the phone and slammed on the  
brakes, pulling the car into a tight turn.   
  
"Ray?" Fraser asked, catching his breath and  
very thankful for his seatbelt.  
  
"Prudence. She went after Alford on her own."  
  
*****  
  
  
She pulled the trench coat a little closer as  
she shut the door on the taxi cab and bolted for  
the library on campus. She dared a look at her  
watch. It was two minutes past the time Carl had  
told Tracy to meet him in front of the library.  
Prudence could only hope that Carl would wait a  
few minutes, and that Tracy had gotten through  
to Fraser and Ray.   
  
All thoughts of vengeance aside, Prudence really  
wanted Ray to be there backing her up when she  
faced Alford. Fraser and the wolf would be  
wonderful as well.   
  
It was just, as they were fighting, it had  
occurred to her that Alford had no need to  
assume a false identity. He could just pick up  
whatever girls he wanted by invoking someone  
elses name. Borrowing authority, so to speak.  
Just like a police officer used the authority of  
their rank to pick up suspects. But she hadn't  
been in the mood to defend the sudden insight to  
Ray and, fired by anger as other irrational  
emotions, she had left. Without thinking things  
through. Well, now she was thinking. And she  
hoped Ray showed up in time.   
  
Enough. She pushed the fear down and sucked in a  
breath at the sight of a dark car waiting by the  
library steps. Wait. She ruthlessly pulled the  
rubber band holding her hair back in its french  
braid out and combed through the long dark hair,  
fluffing it. She didn't think it would fool Carl  
for long, but Tracy had long dark hair too, and  
the moment's advantage might be useful.  
  
As she approached the car, a tall man walked out  
from the shadows. Blond hair caught the light  
and in a glimpse she recognized him. It was the  
man from the closet. It was Carl.   
  
"Hey, I was afraid that you would have left,"  
she said cheerfully as she quickly closed the  
distance between herself and the car, her right  
hand casually going underneath her coat to her  
gun. "Carl, right?"  
  
He paused, as if uncertain. Frowning and unsure  
about who this woman before him was, he licked  
his lips. Tracy or...? "Yeah. I am Carl. Tracy?"  
  
Her grin was easy but tinged with sharpness as  
she pulled her gun in one smooth motion.  
"Chicago PD, put your hands where I can see them."  
He stared at her.   
  
"Now," her body calmly shifted into Weaver  
stance, her readiness to fire apparent.  
  
  
"You must forgive Carl. He never has been too  
quick on the uptake." A apologetic voice spoke  
from the darkness. Prudence stiffened. "But I  
think you might be a little more adept about  
realizing your situation. Put the gun down."  
  
She turned slowly, bending to place the gun on  
the ground as she did. "Lloyd Alford I presume?"   
  
The drawn face of the elderly man broke into a  
faint smile but the gun he held didn't falter.  
"I would say you have me at an advantage, Miss.  
But you don't. Not really. Carl." he nodded to  
Prudence and Carl stepped forward with a pair of  
hand cuffs. "I don't suppose Miss. Watkins is  
around here anywhere?"   
  
"Not a chance. She is at the precinct giving  
them a description of wonder-boy there. And  
back-up is on the way." She threw at him, still  
smiling serenely.  
  
"Then we should probably leave then." He met her  
smile with equal serenity. "Pity. I thought  
Chicago would last us longer. Well, at least we  
should be able to have time enough for one  
experiment before having to pack up and move on."  
  
Prudence stifled a gasp as the handcuffs were  
squeezed very tight. A wave of foreboding swept  
her. "Experiments?"  
  
"Oh, you are going to find out all about them.  
In fact, if things go well, you will be the  
conduit for a break through in our understanding  
of existence. Carl, put her in the car."  
  
"Watch the leg," she said sharply. Carl shoved  
her in the vehicle and it pulled away from the  
curb.  
  
*****  
  
  
Ray barely waited for the car to stop before  
throwing it into park and turning off the  
ignition. Wordlessly he and Fraser ran down the  
short path that led to the library. Diefenbaker  
raced ahead.  
  
The front of the library was conspicuously  
empty. Ray swore, jaw tightening.   
  
"Fraser, where did they go?" he demanded.  
  
Fraser was already kneeling to examine the  
tracks. "It appears a newer model of  
Ford...perhaps a 97 or a ...."  
"Fraser!"   
  
"There are no distinguishing marks on the tires,  
Ray." Fraser said, voice getting a bit louder in  
response. He was worried too. "No dripping  
fluid, no scraping muffler. I could conceivable  
follow this back to the main road, but once  
there.." He glanced beyond the tire track for  
just a moment, double checking that there was  
nothing coming from what would have been the  
rear of the car. "Wait."  
  
"What?" Ray shifted his weight and took a single  
half-aborted step forward.   
  
"Cloth. Like something got caught in the car  
door and got dragged on the ground as it moved  
away." He knelt even closer and gingerly sniffed  
at the earth.  
  
"You see that? I don't see that..." Ray was  
muttering.  
  
"It's Prudence's trench coat." Fraser said with  
abrupt certainty as he stood. "Diefenbaker?"  
  
"Good. Good. Her trench coat." Ray nodded.  
  
The wolf caught the scent Fraser was indicating  
and whined low in his throat. "Follow this  
scent, Dief, but wait until we get in the car so  
we can follow you." Fraser instructed.  
  
The Wolf patiently settled back on his haunches  
to wait until the Mountie and Cop were in car.  
  
"How did you know that?" Ray asked as they shut  
the car doors and he started the ignition. Hazel  
eyes focused on the wolf as he began to track  
the scent down the road on to the main street.  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"That it was Prudence's trench coat? I mean.."  
  
"Oh, that." Fraser shrugged. "It was obvious  
from placement of the material at the back right  
seat of the car, and there was the faintest  
scent of rose, chocolate and the laundry  
detergent most often used by dry cleaners. The  
rose, obviously from the sachets she probably  
has hanging in her closet, the chocolate from  
the donuts of earlier and a trench coat like  
hers can't be machine washed so it seemed a  
logical conclusion."  
  
Ray had been nodding absently as Fraser spoke.  
"Back seat?" he interrupted. Fraser paused.  
  
"Yes. Back seat. Indicating that there were two  
other people in the car and judging from her  
foot prints, she did not go into the car  
completely willing."  
"Great."   
  
They both fell silent.   
  
*****  
  
  
"So you promised me an explanation?" Prudence  
asked, chin raised a little as Carl tightened  
the last fastener holding her wrist to the arm  
of the chair. The fact that the chair was made  
entirely out of stainless steel and had numerous  
cords and other things attached to it from a  
computer console was not reassuring. Neither  
were the other strange and unidentifiable  
instruments and equipment surrounding her. The  
warehouse was filled with crates and boxes, but  
Alford had carved out a space in the center of  
it all for his strange contraption and computer  
hook ups. A small room had also been put there,  
looking as if it had been randomly dropped on  
the site. Prudence hadn't seen the inside of it,  
but she bet it had been an office of some sort  
at some time.   
  
The fear was boiling up in her gut, but sheer  
will kept it down, channeled it through defiance.   
  
Alford's fingers clicked on a keyboard as he  
made adjustments to a control panel. "Have you  
ever killed anyone, Officer?"  
  
"Not yet," she said, managing to keep her voice  
even.  
  
He smiled.  
  
"It is very simple. First off, the cutting out  
of hearts is a ruse. A decoy so to speak. It  
tends to make those of a judicial mind think of  
cults instead of the pure pursuit of science.  
You have to accept the principle that Death  
releases a great deal of power--especially  
violent death and the death of the young. Those  
in their prime, so to speak. Now normally, that  
power is untappable by conventional means. That  
is what I have been working on. And..." He moved  
to tamper with another connection. "that is what  
you are going to help me with. You are young.  
Your death will be sufficiently traumatic. And  
this time, this time it will all work."  
  
Prudence merely stared at Alford as Carl pulled  
down a metal ring from the back side of the  
chair. It encircled her head and grazed her  
temples. Electrical burns on the temples... "You  
killed my sister. Killed Gina for some hocus  
pocus power that you haven't even gotten to work  
or..?"  
  
"It will work." Alford snapped. "It is just a  
matter of time."  
  
"And you'll what?" she demanded, eyes wide and  
voice high pitched with the edge of hysteria and  
skepticism. "Get all this power and what? Light  
up a city or something? Take over the world?"  
  
"Nothing so pedestrian, I assure you." Alford  
walked over to her and smiled again, his voice  
filled with pride and calmly matter of fact. So  
neat. So clean. "Dimensional portals, dear.  
Other worlds and other realms. If I can harness  
the power of your death, with these new  
configurations, I will have brought forth a new  
era." He turned some dials on the chair and made  
sure some lines were connected. Then he glanced  
at her and caught her wide eyed stare. He gently  
patted her cheek. "Just remember that television  
show 'Sliders', Officer. A bit like that. I'll  
worry about the rest."  
  
"This isn't a television show, Alford," she  
whispered fiercely, pronouncing each word sharply.  
  
He shrugged and walked over to the computer  
console again. "So much the better. That way the  
heros don't have to win, now do they?"  
  
"Well, no one ever said they had too, although  
it does make for a better show, don't ya think?"   
  
Prudence's breath was sharp, as if she had been  
holding it and just now felt it was safe to  
breath again. "About time!"   
  
Ray shrugged, his glasses balanced precariously  
on his nose as he kept his gun trained on Alford.  
  
"If you will please step away from the console,  
sir. I think you will find you are out  
numbered." Fraser said politely. The unconscious  
body of Carl a few feet away from him proved his  
point, although Prudence had no idea how Fraser  
had knocked the man out without her or Alford  
noticing.   
  
For a moment, Alford looked stunned. Then his  
eyes narrowed. "I don't think so. I have my hand  
on the button that will send a current more than  
enough to kill her through the chair. You are  
interfering with something you don't understand,  
gentlemen. Put your gun down."  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
"Fine! Then you can shoot me. But either way,  
she dies and I prove my point. I will be hailed  
as a genius." Alford tensed the muscles in his  
hand and started to push down.  
  
"Wait!" Ray shouted, turning the gun away from  
Alford. Raising his other hand in the air, he  
slowly bent to put the gun down.   
  
"Shoot him!" Prudence would have surged to her  
feet, had she been able.   
"Ray...he is going to kill her anyway." Fraser  
said anxiously.  
  
"I know that."   
  
There was no warning. A tight grin twisted Ray's  
lips and the gun swung around to the surge  
protector through which all the electrical  
chords were run. He fired, and the plastic  
shattering seemed much louder than it actually  
was.   
  
"NO!" Alford screamed. Smoke poured from the  
ruined device and the computer screens blanked  
all in a row. Alford ran from the room. Fraser  
was on his heels in an instant, and Ray was not  
far behind. The warehouse and its labrythine  
convolutions of boxes and packing crates took  
the three from sight almost immediately.   
  
Prudence pulled at the restraints holding her to  
the chair frantically. She groaned and then  
gritted her teeth. Fine. The tears that she  
would have rather died than let Alford see  
slipped from her eyes. Pulling didn't work? She  
would pull harder! There wasn't much reason or  
logic left, she wanted out and she wanted out  
NOW.   
  
*****  
  
  
Lloyd Alford was not a stupid man, by any set of  
the mind. By the same token, he wasn't exactly  
brilliant. What he was, was stubborn and  
obsessive. He would prove his theories to the  
world and he would gain the acclaim he had been  
seeking all his life. And an idiot in a red  
suit, an imbecilic cop were not going to stop  
him.   
  
The two following him had the advantage of  
youth. He had the advantage of knowing the  
territory. The gun he had only used once before  
in his life was fired into the darkness behind  
him, hopefully enough to make them duck and  
cover. The return fire came no where near him,  
since he had immediately taken an unobtrusive  
opening in the crates that would lead him back  
towards that cleared center of the warehouse.  
The chances that the Mountie or the Cop, in the  
unlit tangle, could tell which way he went were  
almost laughable.  
  
He would prove his theories. He had too.  
  
*****  
  
  
A strangled gasp escaped her lips and she sagged  
back. There was no way. She could have cut her  
wrist to the bone and still not slid it out of  
the restraints.  
  
"Ray!" she shouted, beginning to panic. "Ray?  
Fraser!"  
A cold nose nudged her hand, and then licked  
the blood and sweat from it as if to comfort.   
  
"Dief!" a moment's elation, and then she shut  
her eyes and half laughed, half sobbed. "Y-you  
don't have any hands though.."   
  
The wolf tilted his head to the side, as if this  
abrupt subject change and obvious statement were  
quite absurd of her. Fraser had told him to stay  
by Prudence, and he was going to this time.   
  
She opened one eye and just looked at him.  
"Don't suppose you know where Carl put the key  
to these? Dief?" She stared. "Dief, where are  
you going? Don't leave. Stay, Dief..sta..."   
  
It was almost impossible, but her eyes got  
wider. Dief sauntered back to her and the keys  
clanked as they were dropped into her hand.  
"...my God..." she muttered. Diefenbaker sat  
down and growled as if to hurry her up as she  
tried to manipulate the key into the lock. But  
of course the keys had been in Carl's pocket.  
And they had half fallen out when Fraser knocked  
him unconscious. Anyone could have seen that.  
The woman shouldn't have been so surprised that  
Diefenbaker had noticed. Diefenbaker's tongue  
lolled out in a canine laugh at Prudence's awe.   
  
"No." The words were hissed, and Prudence  
whirled. Alford gripped the gun harder. "Get  
back in that chair!"  
  
"No," she retorted, half crouched.  
  
"Do it!" he demanded again. Diefenbaker growled,  
ears flattening. A sharp bark erupted from lips  
curled over teeth. Fraser would hear it.   
  
"The computer is ruined! You can't..."  
  
"I can do it. There are back up protocols!"  
  
She couldn't help it. Prudence laughed. Alford  
was so desperate, like a child striving for a  
toy denied.   
  
Alford's eyes narrowed.   
  
Ray inhaled slowly, rounding a tall packing  
crate with his gun trained on Alford. "Drop it!"  
he said firmly.  
  
Alford shook his head. "Oh no. I'll shoot her,"  
he grinned. "You know how it ends. There are no  
secondary targets now, boy.   
Back off."  
  
"Didn't we just do this?" Prudence snapped,  
swallowing.  
  
"Yes we did," Fraser agreed, voice deliberate  
as he stepped out directly to the left of  
Alford, "Only last time, they weren't here."  
  
  
Instinctively, Alford turned his head to the  
empty space Fraser had nodded to.   
  
And in that split second, everything happened.  
  
Diefenbaker launched at Alford's arm, the one  
with the weapon. Clothing ripped and Alford  
stumbled backward, refusing to drop the gun at  
first, then reflexively releasing it. Fraser  
surged forward, but Prudence was already there.  
As smoothly as if she had practiced it all her  
life and as emotionlessly as if she were merely  
going through the motions, she closed on Alford,  
slammed her knee up into his groin and punched  
him neatly in the face.  
  
Alford fell, and Prudence followed him down  
quickly. She grabbed the reeling man by the  
collar and the sudden glint of silver marked the  
start of time again.  
  
"No." Ray said sharply, lowering his gun and  
taking a few steps closer. "Pru, don't."  
  
"My sister..." she said quietly, her flat  
passionless tone giving her words an eerie  
distance. It was like she was speaking of a  
dream, as if she weren't holding the knife at  
Alford's throat so tightly that the slightest  
push would thrust it up and it. A child reciting  
a rout formula. "My sister. She wasn't like me,  
you know...she was practical. I would dream up  
these schemes...we were always in some sort of  
plot...but she was the one who made them work."  
  
"He isn't worth it, Pru.." Ray's voice was  
filled with warning and an undercurrent of fear  
for her. "Listen to me."  
  
"I told her everything, you know. And she would  
listen with that serious grave look on her  
face...I-I," she faltered for a moment, grief  
catching up and tainting her voice. "I sit in  
the dark sometimes...always have. Ever since I  
was little. I used to be able to go to her when  
things got too bad. W-when the world pressed in  
to tight. She would listen with that look and  
tell me about how life was going to be filled  
with adventure and I was going to meet this  
knight in shiny armor...How there was more to  
things. And I wouldn't feel so alone. So lost  
anymore." The words lingered ever so briefly,  
leaving the air somehow fragile in their wake.  
Then Life flared back, and fury slid into the  
place of grief. Every muscle tensed with the  
passion and Prudence thrust the knife up a  
centimeter. "Do you know?" She grated, and blood  
trickled from around the knife. "Do you KNOW how  
many nights I have spent in darkness begging to  
just hear her tell me it would be alright again?  
Just once! Do you have ANY idea?"  
  
"S-someone.." Alford barely whispered, pinned  
beneath the sheer will of her eyes. "..don't let  
her..."  
  
Prudence's lips twisted and she pulled her arm  
back and then struck in a flurry of motion. The  
hilt of the knife thudded into Alford's temple  
and he slid unconscious to the floor. She just  
looked at him.  
  
"No. You wouldn't would you?"  
  
Prudence stood and walked away without another  
word.  
  
*****  
  
  
Ray tore the sheet of paper from his note pad  
and, scowling, crumpled it and threw it into the  
trash can.  
  
"What was that Ray? Yet another draft? That  
makes your fifth one, right?" Frannie asked  
innocently as she walked by. He threw a dirty  
look after her.   
  
"I hate writing reports. I hate it," he grumbled  
and took up his pen again. He tapped the paper  
with it for a moment, but didn't find the  
necessary inspiration. Or the focus. Luckily,  
Fraser's entrance gave him an easy out.   
  
"Hey. What's going on?" he asked, standing and  
meeting Fraser half way from the desk.  
  
"Nothing much lately," Fraser said, "Doing  
reports?"  
  
"Yeah. You are sure there isn't some dire  
situation out there that needs to be  
investigated? Girl scouts get some cookies  
stolen or anything?"  
  
"No, not a thing, Ray," he looked over Ray's  
head and smiled, "Prudence. Hello."  
  
She smiled. "Hello Benton. Holla-hey Ray."  
  
He twisted to watch her walk around to the two.  
Somewhat to his surprise, he noted that she  
wasn't in uniform. Well, she hadn't been the  
night of the stake out either, but she had had  
that huge trench coat on. For some reason, this  
put Ray off a little. She also had a travel bag  
with her.  
  
"You headed somewhere?" Ray asked.  
  
"New York, actually. My boss told me to take a  
week off, so I figured that the Adirondacks are  
as good a place to go as any. When I get back we  
are going to...discuss...the status of my job,"  
she breathed a laugh at Fraser's quizzical look,  
"Meaning, am I fired or not."  
"Nah. He won't fire you. He is just trying to  
scare you most likely. You were just doing what  
was necessary to bring the guy in." Ray argued.  
  
Prudence gave him the official skeptical look.  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Yeah." Ray looked at Fraser expectantly and  
Prudence turned her amused gaze on the Mountie  
as well. Fraser looked from one to the other.  
  
"Oh!" he said, catching on, "Yes. I mean, yeah."  
  
Prudence laughed openly, and Ray smiled in  
response. It as good to hear her laugh again.  
The last few days had been unnaturally devoid of  
that sound.  
  
"That is what my report is going to say, at any  
rate," he added.  
  
"Thanks, Ray. But there is no need to perjure  
yourself for me," she teased, "By the way, did  
they get anything useful from Alford?"   
  
"Basically, it amounts to a full confession,"  
Fraser offered, "He was all too eager to talk  
about his experiments and theories. I believe he  
has an appointment to go into a psychiatric  
evaluation."  
  
Her eyes were darkened, but her expression was  
very carefully neutral. "I see."  
  
Ray shifted his weight and looked down.  
"Uhh...Prudence, look. I'm sorry that I, um,  
didn't exactly give you an easy time helping us  
out here. You know, I just didn't want you to  
get involved or hurt or..."  
  
"I know," she said expression warm, "You were  
just trying to help. You would have done the  
same for any annoying kid sister, right?" She  
grinned.  
  
Ray looked up, a smile on his lips. He shrugged.  
"Yeah, well."  
  
"But you really need to remember something,  
Ray," she chided softly, " I am not your kid  
sister."  
  
"I know," he shrugged and might have said more,  
but she didn't let him. Hand reaching out to cup  
the back of his neck and, if necessary to  
prevent him from pulling away, she leaned  
forward and kissed him. Perhaps, for a moment,  
it might have been possible to write the gesture  
off as a sisterly one. But she stopped smiling  
and quickly made the nature of the thing  
unmistakable.   
  
Fraser tactfully glanced away.   
  
"Good. That means you can be taught," she  
disengaged herself easily and smiled sweetly at  
Fraser, "I'm running late. Hope to see you  
later, Fraser."  
  
He nodded. "Enjoy your trip, Prudence. We will  
look after things until you get back."  
  
"Goodbye, Ray," she said, eyes glinting  
mischief. She patted his cheek lightly as she  
walked away.  
  
He just stared at her, noting for perhaps the  
first time that her well worn jeans were very  
nicely fitted. And as she half turned at the  
door way to let an officer through, he noticed  
that the tee-shirt fit admirably too. And that  
her hair looked very soft framing her face like  
that, and her lips were full and shining with  
just a hint of lip gloss and...  
  
"Fraser."  
  
"Yes, Ray?"  
  
Prudence disappeared from view.  
  
Ray shook himself, like a man trying to wake  
from a dream or dispel an image.   
  
"Nothing. Never mind. Not a thing. Just...forget  
it."  
  
"Understood."  
  
  
  
  



End file.
